Twilight's Serenade (15 page)

It was well known that Kay spoke her mind whenever she felt it was necessary. For all intents and purposes, Theodore had thrown down the gauntlet and Kay was happy to pick it up as defender of the Lindquist men.

“We are speaking truth at this table,” Kay said, “which may well be the reason you should refrain from saying anything more.” She stared him down and waited for his reply.

Theodore was more than up for the challenge. “Are you suggesting that I’m a liar? I merely stated what I see to be completely true. Neither Mr. Lindquist the elder nor his son—my sister’s husband—are present. In fact, no one has heard anything from either one. At best, that means they are dead. At worst, they have abandoned their families. My money is on the latter.”

“You wretched man,” Kay shot back.

“That really was uncalled for, Robbins,” Yuri said, his eyes narrowing. “You are a guest of the Lindquist family, and thus it would be reasonable to expect better behavior and certainly better conversation.”

Theodore didn’t appear the least bit concerned that another man had come to the defense of the Lindquist men. Phoebe could see from his expression that he had no intention of backing down. Something had to be done.

To her surprise, Gordon was getting to his feet. He moved with methodic slowness as he folded his napkin and put it beside his plate. “If you want to discuss it further, Uncle Ted, we can take this behind the woodshop.”

Theodore laughed, which was exactly the worst thing he could have done. Phoebe could see that her son was barely containing his temper. Gordon’s jaw clenched and fire lit his eyes as he stepped back a pace.

“I suppose you’ve learned such barbaric practices from your father,” Theodore stated matter-of-factly. “But I, for one, was raised with better manners.”

Gordon balled his fists, and Phoebe knew the time had come to intercede. “Enough of this. I cannot believe your insensitivity. You speak of manners yet sit at your hostess’s table bad-mouthing not only her son but her husband. And for what reason?”

The anger in Theodore’s expression was enough to make her wilt, but Phoebe held her ground. “Answer me. For what reason do you come here today and make such a display of your bitter heart?”

“You know very well what reason. Dalton Lindquist killed our father. Maybe he didn’t put a gun to his head, but neither did he take care to do anything to prevent him from jumping from the ship to his death. Our father might have lived had your husband paid closer attention to his obvious sorrow.”

Gordon started for Theodore, but Phoebe put herself between them. This action brought Yuri to his feet.

“No! It’s your own fault!” Gordon accused.

“Gordon, calm down.” Phoebe met his contorted face with a sad smile. “This won’t solve anything.”

He turned and headed for the sanctuary of the forest. Phoebe longed to go after him but knew it was best to give Gordon time. She’d deal instead with her brother.

“You,” Phoebe said, pointing to Theodore, “come with me right now.” She glanced at Yuri. “If he refuses, you have my permission to bind him and bring him to me.”

She took off without looking back. Theodore would come of his own accord, or she knew Yuri would bring him. Either way, she would speak her mind away from the others.

It was only a matter of minutes before her brother joined her. He crossed his arms and stared at her hard. “So is this where I get my tongue-lashing?”

“No. Not at all.”

He smirked. “Then what?”

“I want you to leave.”

He looked at her oddly. “Leave?”

“Yes. I want you to go. I will pay for your ticket.”

“Wait a minute,” he said, relaxing his arms. “Are you saying you want me to leave Sitka?”

Phoebe could see that he was clearly stunned. She didn’t know why it should surprise him so much. “Yes. Mother will stay, but I’m tired of your ugly comments about my husband. Dalton didn’t kill our father. He had nothing to do with our father’s death. You might as well say it was our fault. Perhaps we were bad children for not noticing his grief.”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Theodore shouted.

Phoebe noted a strange tone in his voice as he continued. “If Dalton would simply have taken notice of Father’s sadness—of his desperation—he might have lived. If nothing else, Dalton should have read the letter Father penned him.”

She softened her tone. “But he didn’t.”

“That’s right. He didn’t.” Theodore began to pace. “He didn’t realize when Father left, or he might have done something different.”

“Don’t you mean
you
might have done something different?”

He moved toward Phoebe. “We’re not talking about me.”

“Aren’t we?” She watched as his face contorted. “Teddy?”

He began to pace. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. If you want me to go, I’ll go.”

She put out her hand and stopped him. “Teddy, I don’t want you to go. I want you to tell me what’s bothering you. What has caused you to become such a hardened man?”

He looked at her for a moment, and she could feel him tremble. “It’s . . . I can’t.” He dropped his chin and shook his head. “It’s too much.”

“Tell me,” she encouraged. “Then maybe you won’t feel so alone.”

For several moments he said nothing, and Phoebe thought perhaps he never would. The silence wore on as Theodore seemed to fight against his demons. He shook his head again. “You’re right. I failed him. He asked me to go with him.” A hoarse sob broke from his throat. “He knew he wasn’t strong enough to make the trip alone.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you see? It was my fault. I should have gone with him.” He crumpled to the ground. “If I’d gone with him, he wouldn’t be dead now.”

Phoebe knelt beside him. “You can’t know that, Teddy.” She put her hand on his shoulder.

“But he asked me to go. He came to me the night before he left and told me he thought it would be best if I went with him.”

“Perhaps he only wanted you to accompany him so that you could go back and take Mother the letters, instead of trusting them to strangers. Maybe he only needed to know that someone would share the news sympathetically with Mother once he was gone.”

He shook his head. “I cannot bear the thought of what might have been. I was a terrible son to him. I was more interested in my own affairs. I was nothing but a disappointment to him, and because of that, he killed himself.”

“Teddy, that’s not true. Father had never been able to overcome the shame of his father’s actions. When Grandfather swindled their friends and neighbors out of their money—when he took off with the bank funds—he brought the whole family under suspicion. You might not remember this, but even after Grandfather went to prison, people were sent to spy on us. They were certain that Father had played some role in the embezzlement. After all, he was second in command at the bank.”

“I do remember.” Theodore pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose. “I should never have come back here. It’s like Father’s misery and fear is all around me.”

“Teddy, you have grieved for far too long. You’ve blamed yourself—wrongly. Now is the time to let go of the past and see God for the loving and generous Father that He is. He is there for us—despite our earthly father leaving. Where Father was weak, God is strong. Where Father had no hope, God is hope.”

“I’m sorry, Phoebe. It’s hard for me to believe.”

“It’s not easy for anyone to put their trust in someone they can’t see or hear. It requires a faith that is not of our own doing. It is a faith borne of God himself—it’s a gift from Him.”

He looked at her with such sorrow. “I never meant to hurt you. I’ve made a complete fool of myself, I know. What should I do? I can go, but . . .” He grew quiet and hung his head.

Phoebe hugged him for a moment, then released him lest he be embarrassed by her action. “You don’t have to go, but you do have to apologize to Lydia. She is hurting so much already.”

Theodore stood and pulled her to her feet. “Oh, Phoebe, I’m so sorry.”

She nodded but couldn’t say anything more. The words were stuck in the back of her throat, and to force them would surely bring on her own tears.

He seemed to realize that she needed to be alone. “I’ll go right now and apologize.”

Phoebe turned away. She wanted to take a few moments to strengthen her resolve before she faced everyone once again. How could she help Lydia when her own heart was so heavy? How could she possibly be what everyone needed her to be?

“Mother?”

She turned to find Gordon watching her. Phoebe smiled. “What is it, darling?”

“I heard what you said to Uncle Ted.” He looked skeptical. “How can you be so nice to him after what he said about Father?”

Extending her hand to him, Phoebe waited until he came to her. “Gordon, God has forgiven me of my sins and all the bad things I’ve said about others. How could I not forgive my own brother for his mistakes?”

“But he hates Father.”

“No, Gordon. He hates himself. He hates that he couldn’t save our father from taking his own life. He blames himself. Surely you must have heard that.”

“Maybe he just wanted you to feel sorry for him.”

Phoebe hugged him close and began walking slowly back toward the house. “That isn’t Ted’s way. Besides, even if that is what he needed, I do feel sorry for him. He isn’t strong in the Lord. He’s been angry at God for so many years that he no longer knows how to feel anything else toward Him. Love is what he longs for, but it’s the very thing he can’t seem to find.”

Gordon considered this for a few moments. “But you always told me that God gave His love freely. It shouldn’t be hard to find.”

“Maybe not, but for some it is difficult to accept. Pray for him, Gordon. Forgive him and pray that he will open his heart to Jesus. He’s so very lost right now, and that must surely be terrifying.”

Gordon had been her most responsive child when it came to issues of faith. He often seemed wise beyond his fifteen years, and when he promised to seek his uncle out to ask forgiveness, Phoebe wasn’t surprised.

“Bitterness is a terrible thing, Gordon. We must always stand guard against it, lest we fall into the same circumstance.”

“I will be careful, Mother. Just as I will continue to pray for Father and Grandfather. Sometimes my faith isn’t very strong,” he admitted, “but then I remember Father said that walking with Jesus is a lifelong journey. You don’t see or understand everything at once. It comes in steps along the way.”

Her son’s reminder of Dalton’s teaching touched her deeply. “Indeed it does.”

Yuri wasn’t at all surprised to find Britta asleep later that day. She was dozing in the rocker with Laura curled up in her lap. Careful not to wake the sleeping child, Yuri lifted Laura into his arms and took her to bed. She barely stirred. Clearly the activities of the day had been too much for her. A good nap would do them all some good.

Darya was sleeping peacefully in her crib, and Yuri couldn’t help but pause a moment after tucking Laura in. He watched the sleeping infant and wondered who her father might be. She was a sweet baby—well, at least most of the time. He grinned as he thought of how she would smile at him, then laugh as if she knew a secret. Lydia shared that Aunt Zee had always said that a baby’s laughter had to do with hearing the songs of angels. He wondered if it might be true.

“I’m losing my heart to you both,” he whispered, casting yet another glance at Laura. “But I don’t see how I can keep you.”

He walked back into the front room, where Britta was still dozing in the chair. She looked so content—and so very beautiful. As a little girl, she had always seemed happy and carefree. But that was only reasonable, he thought. She had grown up with good parents who loved her. But so had he. Where had things gone so wrong for him? How was it that he had ended up a drunken gambler? His mother had loved him as much as Lydia loved Britta. She had lovingly tucked him in to bed at night and prayed with him. She had listened to his dreams and encouraged his plans. He couldn’t remember a negative or cross word ever coming from his mother’s lips.

His father had been firm, but loving. He and Kjell were a lot alike in their work ethics and concern about family. Why had those feelings escaped Yuri? How could he have lived with such fine examples and turned toward a life of such tragedy?

How he missed his father’s encouragement and advice, his mother’s tenderness and strength. His mother was lost to him now, but what of his father and sister? Were they still living? Now that he was back in Sitka, he needed to sit down and write them a letter. First and foremost, he owed them an apology for the way he’d acted over the years. They had never stopped believing in him.

Neither had Britta.

He watched her stir. Britta Lindquist had been a godsend to his children—to him. Yet she was sacrificing a proposal of marriage, and all because of his girls. Of this, Yuri was convinced.

I can’t let her give up a life of happiness
.

Maybe the best thing would be to give the children up to Kjerstin and her husband as Lydia had once suggested. The girls deserved to have a family—a mother and a father who were stable and could offer them love and security.